


Toy Soldier

by buckybleeds



Series: Toybox [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Modification, Bondage and Discipline, Chastity Device, Consent Issues, Crossdressing Kink, D/s, Dacryphilia, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dissociation, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Exposure therapy, Face-Fucking, HYDRA Trash Party, Happy Ending, Humor, Idiots in Love, Jerk Off Instructions, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Lace Panties, Large Cock, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Mental bondage, Nausea, No Refractory Period, No Safeword, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Painkillers, Pet Names, Porn Watching, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rape Recovery, Rough Body Play, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Subspace, Therapy, Total Power Exchange, Triggers, Under-negotiated Kink, an excellent time was had by all, but still, fleshlight, kind of - they are MEN's panties on a man, not onscreen but the fallout of it, r/bigdickproblems, ruined orgasm, with a few ups and downs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25913545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybleeds/pseuds/buckybleeds
Summary: After getting triggered by the events of "Toy" Bucky decides to help Steve explore the wide, wonderful world of sex toys while also asserting his autonomy by railing Steve into the next century.Featuring: Quite A Lot Of Kink, a couple gut-punches, and lots of schmoopy nicknames.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Toybox [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880650
Comments: 30
Kudos: 179





	Toy Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> **CONGRATS _TOY_ IS NOW THE SEED OF A SERIES. **
> 
> HYDRA did lots of terrible things to Bucky, it's only fair for Steve to help him work through the trauma.
> 
> thanks to Bushwah, @hanitrash, and @cloudycelebrations for helping to beta this fic and thanks to the commenters on _Toy_ who made it very clear that they wanted more of it.

Bucky awoke on top of a thin mattress and underneath a thin blanket. Something was beeping nearby.

Hospital. 

He opened his eyes and recognized Stark’s medical unit from his many surprise visits.

He also recognized Steve’s defeated, closed-off posture from where he slept uncomfortably in a recliner at Bucky’s elbow.

Bucky had been triggered and now they were going to have to have A Talk. 

He sighed and ran inventory on himself, flexing muscles from his head to his toes, opening one eye then the other, tipping his head rapidly back and forth. 

Assessment: rectal soft tissue damage requiring minimally invasive repairs. 

Five stitches, tops. 

He tried to remember what had gotten him here, how long it had taken, and the last time he’d felt like this.

It had been a while. 

This was an ache he particularly associated with long ops under Rumlow’s command.

Oh.

He settled in to let his body heal itself with the aid of IV nutrients and the good painkillers. He’d wait until Steve woke up to try to find out what he’d shoved into himself.

* * *

Bucky thought it was hilarious that Steve refused to take the bike home from the tower out of his concern for the Winter Soldier’s poor, traumatized asshole.

The tearing had cleared up within twenty-four hours. The triggering would probably take a bit longer.

For both of them.

“I’m not gonna rip myself open in twenty minutes on your Softail even if _my_ tail is a little soft,” he’d whined, and Steve had gone a bit green and Bucky had relented and allowed Happy to drive them back in Stark’s Benz. 

Steve had cleaned up. The smell of bleach still lingered in the kitchen. He set down the little Hospital-Specific-Go-Bag they always had packed and went through the steps of prodding his fancy espresso machine in the correct way to conjure coffee. 

Steve frothed himself up something that smelled like oranges and ginger and set down an Americano in front of Bucky.

“Mandatory therapy online?”

Steve shook his head.

“Nah. It’s a red-letter day, Buck, Dr. Bernstein is coming to you.” 

Dr. Rebekah Bernstein was a tiny, dour woman who was the state’s foremost expert on sexual abuse and trauma recovery. 

She was also nearly as old as they were. 

They got along pretty well. 

Bucky stood up from the table and snagged Steve into a hug.

“You take good care of me, you know.”

Steve squeezed him back delicately. He was always so careful after Bucky’s little breakdowns. Bucky growled and squished him harder until he relented and grabbed on like he meant it. 

“You gonna sit in with us?”

“You want me to?” Steve asked, and kissed his temple.

“Yeah.”

“Then yeah.”

* * *

The problem (one of the problems, one of the many, many problems) was that for Bucky the episodes were seamless. 

He was having a nice afternoon, he got triggered and everything went away, he woke up from his nice afternoon in a medical center with his ass sewed shut. He barely even minded. The episodes weren’t a diversion back into being the Asset for months or years, they were a _nuisance_. Irritating, but much less frustrating than the weekly physical therapy for the way his arm was trying to chew through his spine. 

He didn’t blame himself for the things that had been done to him, he didn’t see himself as a sexual object or inhuman garbage or a tragic martyr. He was staggeringly well-adjusted (Dr. Bernstein was _incredible_ at her job). 

The problem these days was that when Bucky broke a little bit Steve broke a lot. 

Bucky and Dr. Bernstein had started using phrases like “referred trauma” and “secondary victimization” and they understood each other but Steve was a stubborn asshole and kept insisting that this wasn’t about him, he was only there to support Bucky, he loved Bucky and would do whatever it took to accommodate his needs.

So Bucky and Dr. Bernstein got through the smalltalk and pleasantries, Bucky ran down the incident as he had experienced it and they both patiently turned to Steve to hear his side of things.

“This isn’t about me,” he said, “I’m just here to make sure Buck is okay.”

Bucky threw up his hands and Dr. Bernstein rolled her eyes. They really did get along pretty well. 

Steve got pissed.

“This isn’t _about me_ ,” he insisted again, louder this time. “There’s nothing bothering me except wanting to make sure Bucky doesn’t get hurt again. So let’s work on a plan to avoid this in the future and talk about how we’re going to make sure a pop-up ad doesn’t start a spiral.”

Bucky snorted.

“Did you spend enough time shopping around for deviant sex toys on our shared family laptop that I’m gonna get my delicate sensibilities offended by pop-ups?”

Steve blushed.

“There’s different sizes,” he mumbled. “Had to make sure I’d fit.”

“My big guy,” Bucky said, kicking Steve’s ankle affectionately.

Steve looked at his knees and turned baby pink at the cheekbones. 

“Seems like in this case it might’ve been better if I was your little guy, sweetheart.”

The tension broke after that and Dr. Bernstein worked them through some exercises for dissociation and they plotted out the bare bones of a desensitization protocol. 

“Steven,” she said near the end of the session, “one of the things that we now know about trauma is that forcing people to face it or talk through it when they aren’t ready most often retraumatizes them, makes them relive the event and feel helpless all over again.”

Steve nodded solemnly.

“I won’t make him talk about anything he’s not ready for.”

Dr. Bernstein rolled her eyes again. 

“Not him, you twit. Call David in my office when you need to.”

Steve huffed and Dr. Bernstein cackled as he walked her to the curb.

* * *

Bucky didn’t want Steve’s espresso machine to explode on him so he just got them each a glass of water.

“So, you wanna pull something else out of your toybox and we can see if I decide to start juggling it and whistling Dixie?”

Steve was cuddled up in the corner of the couch, looking soft in faded joggers and a tiny tee shirt worn to translucence by his overlarge chest.

Steve took the water and gave back a frown.

“What toybox?”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Or underwear drawer or sin bin or spank bank or whatever you call it. Lemme see what you’ve got, Rogers.”

Steve turned bright red.

“You’ve seen my toybox. It was blue and cardboard. There was a fleshlight in it. I figured you’d remember that at least.”

Bucky allowed that statement to percolate through the Swiss cheese that was posing as a brain in his skull. He set his water glass down and climbed into Steve’s big, warm lap.

“Aw. Steve. How long did it take you to work up the guts?”

People didn’t realize it because most of them never got close enough, but even Steve’s scalp could blush if he was embarrassed enough.

“About eight months.”

Bucky dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder.

“You were real excited to get it and I just ruined that for you, huh pal?”

Steve put his arms around Bucky and squeezed tight.

“Wasn’t you.”

Bucky kissed his hot, red ear.

“Yeah, yeah. HYDRA are a bunch of assholes, fuckin’ Nazis. Can’t even watch you jack it into a pocket pussy cause of those pricks.”

  
“Buck,” Steve gasped.

Bucky nibbled at the place where the hot, red ear met his hot, red neck.

“Steve,” he teased back. “What? I like looking at you. It’d be sexy as hell to watch you get all worked up and desperate fucking into a cunt in a can.”

“Bucky!”

His neck turned into beautiful collarbones that disappeared into his thin little shirt. Bucky thumbed at a nipple barely concealed by the stretched-taut fabric.

“Steven,” he teased again, “don’t be coy. If I’m not thinking of myself as a fuckin’ cupholder in that situation I can see the appeal. Maybe we should buy another. Desensitize me more.”

“Jesus,” Steve groaned as Bucky’s other hand came up to pinch at his pecs. He was glowing like a sunset. Perfect and bright.

* * *

Bucky’s clever fingers attacked Steve’s nipples and all of the blood his brain used to consider consequences rushed straight to his dick. 

He whined and writhed up harder against Bucky’s hands, panting through his open mouth and biting down hard on his lower lip when Bucky’s eyes lingered there. 

Bucky’s lax form gained a heavier presence as he started to get more invested and interested in the proceedings. The boneless cuddling shifted from a comforting weight to being pointedly pinned while Bucky’s teeth took over on a nipple and his hand migrated to Steve’s thickening cock.

Soon Bucky had shifted both hands to Steve’s crotch where they were hard at work wiggling the waistband of his joggers under his ass so they could start stroking harshly at his cock and gently cradling his balls. It didn’t take long for him to lose patience and just yank the pants off and drop them somewhere near the coffee table. 

Satisfied with his access, Bucky curled closer. 

The cool metal hand felt incredible against the heat of him. It always did.

Bucky growled around his mouthful of pec and pulled his head up until Steve was scrambling to rearrange himself on the sofa to keep from breaking skin. The growl turned contented when Bucky pushed Steve’s shoulders back and shoved his legs open so that he could lower himself to the ground between his knees. 

Steve’s cock jerked at the rough handling, precome starting to bead at the tip as Bucky moved and arranged him; it always made him feel like he was little again, like he was bodily getting tossed on the floorboards to muffle his moans into his skinny arms and get splinters in his knees so the bedframe wouldn’t squeak and tattle on them to the neighbors.

He could feel light little flutters starting up in his thighs, tiny trickles of sweat at his temples, and then it all went to hell when Bucky leaned down and took his cock in his mouth.

* * *

It was so easy to get Steve worked up. 

Most brilliant strategic mind on the planet, they said. Tactical genius, they said. Photographic memory, they said. 

They had apparently never thought to put Steve’s tit in their mouths when testing those claims because the second he started getting really invested in sex all higher-level thoughts flew out of his head like pigeons startled by a backfire.

Steve was a great fuck. He turned pink everywhere, stopped running his smart mouth for a few minutes and made cute little noises instead, he was needy and generous - just a great package all around and that was before you got to the broad shoulders, tiny waist, and taut little ass. 

Now, granted, Bucky did have other things on his mind - he loved the way Steve tasted, loved the way the thick head rubbed over his tongue as soft as kid leather and as hot as blood, but it was still a little weird that it took a moment for Bucky to notice that all that responsiveness had fled as soon as he sucked Steve’s perfect, silky prick into his mouth.

He bobbed his head down to take Steve deeper, flicked his eyes up to look up at him through thick lashes, and realized that he was gripping the couch cushions like a lifeline and the grimace on his face was definitely not of the I’m-about-to-blow-my-load variety but of the I’m-about-to-start-crying variety.

He backed his head off Steve’s dick so hard that the suction made him choke. 

Steve’s whole body was tense, his muscles standing out from his skin and his joints locked in place. He looked like he was trying to cringe away and stay perfectly still at the same time.

Bucky sat up and wiped his mouth and Steve’s startled blue eyes tracked the motion warily. 

He couldn’t remember where he’d tossed Steve’s pants so Bucky just plucked up an oversized cushion from the nearby armchair and gently placed it in Steve’s lap. He wrapped his arms and legs around it before it even had time to settle, using it as a shield.

“Okay, pal, it’s okay, we’re all done, you’re doin’ good honey,” Bucky made sure his voice was firm and steady. He plucked up one of the glasses of water they’d abandoned on the table and pressed it into Steve’s hand. “You wanna take a sip of that and tell me what you had for lunch today?”

Steve looked blankly at the cup in his hand.

“I - Buck I’m fine. I’m. You don’t have to - I don’t need _grounding_ techniques.” He put the water down and did a weird little shimmy and suddenly half of Steve was gone and Captain America was sitting on Bucky’s couch. “We were in the middle of something, weren’t we? Don’t worry, I’m just - let me do you instead, wanna feel you fuck my face.”

Now. 

Bucky was not made out of stone and not even _very much_ of him was made of steel. Hearing Captain America say “wanna feel you fuck my face” was such stuff wet dreams were made on, but Bucky had very pointedly _not_ been fucking Captain America and he didn’t want the big palooka’s cocksure sucking, he wanted his needy little guy’s hungry sighs. 

But he also didn’t want to argue, so he shrugged.

“Nah. I’m not up for that right now, too soon after the hospital.” Steve’s Captain America face went gooey and sweet, like he was about to hop up in his tee-shirt and nothing else to start waiting on Bucky hand and foot. Bucky didn’t want that either. “Let’s just neck a little and then make sure you put on pants before we order pizza, huh?”

Steve acted like he was going to make a thing out of it for a second, then clutched at his pillow again.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to scare the delivery guy.”

* * *

It was early enough that the light was cool and blue against their white sheets when Bucky heard Steve talking quietly on the phone the next morning.

“Hi,” he said, “sorry to bother you, but Dr. Bernstein said I should call this number and make an appointment with David?”

Bucky smiled and rolled over to go back to sleep.

* * *

Steve’s weekly therapy sessions provided an excellent opportunity for desensitization and research.

Which was the polite way of saying that Bucky jerked himself raw when Steve left the house because it turns out that watching people use fleshlights for their actual intended purpose instead of for dehumanizing brain-damaged POWs was really fucking hot. 

Steve did come home once to find Bucky sitting in the dark in front of a screen full of looping gifs and breathing shallowly but after they blacklisted the words “fleshlight insertion” that wasn’t an issue again. 

So Bucky continued to do his research and one of the things that he discovered was that Steve’s big-boy clear-ice whatever-the-fuck male masturbator was actually on the _less_ adventurous end of the available fuck-sleeve spectrum.

He made some interesting discoveries, consulted the repository of all human anatomical knowledge that was r/bigdickproblems, and placed an order.

* * *

The box on the table was plain brown cardboard with a shipping label on it but it still stopped Steve in his tracks when he got back from his morning run to find it sitting at his place setting next to a sparkling new bottle of lube.

He considered it from across the room as he closed and locked the door behind him.

Unlike some people, he knew better than to open mysterious boxes on the table just because they were there.

“Buck,” he called out, keeping the box in his line of sight as he reached into the cabinet for a glass, “there’s a package on the table.” Steve turned to the sink and got his water. 

Bucky slouched into the room and Steve tried to settle on the happy medium between dropping the glass on the floor or squeezing it so hard in his fist that it shattered. He ended up bobbling it for a second, pouring half of the water in it down his front, and shakily putting it on the counter beside him.

Bucky always looked good but apparently something about lace boxer briefs really did it for Steve.

“It’s a miracle you survived the war, Rogers. No situational awareness.”

Steve swallowed hard. He’d been warm and sweating from his run and now his heartbeat ticked up a notch.

“What’s the plan, Buck?”

Bucky crossed the kitchen and crowded Steve against the counter.

“You’re going to open your toy,” he said, licking sweat off Steve’s neck before biting down just over the flutter of his pulse, “and I’m going to tell you how to play with it.”

Steve’s hips jerked forward and he whined a little at the words. Bucky took pity on him and molded himself closer to Steve, grinding against his front and grabbing twin handfuls of his ass.

“You’re so pretty, honey, I can’t believe I ever let you outta the house when I could have you here looking like this all the time.”

Steve’s exercise-pinked face went a shade darker at the praise, like it always did. 

“Go take off your shirt and sit on the couch, sweetheart. I’ll bring you your present.”

Steve took the opportunity to bite down on Bucky’s lower lip and suck it into his mouth for a moment before he followed his instructions, leaving him wide-eyed and starting to sweat as Steve sauntered away.

No reason to let Bucky win all the points, after all.

Steve peeled off his damp shirt and dropped it carelessly on the table. He settled himself in the center of the couch, taking a moment to kick out of his running shoes so they wouldn’t slow him down if he needed to get his shorts off in a hurry.

Maybe Bucky had a pair of lace panties for Steve to put on. Maybe they’d end up on the couch together, grinding lace-covered cocks against each other and ruining the pretty things as they got worked up and leaked all over them. 

Now there was a thought. 

Steve’s hand dropped to his crotch and his head tipped back.

“Jumping the gun there, hotshot. Hands to yourself.”

Steve groaned as Bucky set down something oblong wrapped in tissue paper and a bottle of what appeared to be labeled “cum lube.”

Bucky settled himself into the armchair, throwing his legs over the side and leaning back against an arm so that he had a good view of Steve. He let his metal hand rest on top of his lace-covered cock and propped his chin up with his flesh hand.

“Go ahead and pick it up.”

Steve reached for the tissue-wrapped thing and hefted it in his hand to feel the weight. It was dense and somewhat flexible. Heavier than he’d expected.

“Tear the paper off.”

He bit his lip and teased a finger under a seam in the wrapping, ripping it off in one sudden movement. 

He -

He had a - 

It was -

“What?”

Bucky was cackling, hugely amused and throwing back his head. 

Steve looked at him then back to the - mouth - thing? In his hand.

"What?”

Buck had clamped his flesh hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Steve was pretty sure he saw actual tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

He looked back at the - okay, okay it was clearly some kind of mouth-thing, made of a sparkling black-blue material that was very pretty but didn’t make - why did it have _scales_?

“Bucky, what?”

“God, sweetheart your face,” Bucky managed to squeak out before he was overcome with giggles.

Steve turned the mouth-lizard-thing over in his hands. It was about a foot long, maybe five inches through the center. The back of it was flat but the rest of it was sculpted to look like the nose and mouth of some kind of huge reptile. It had fangs. 

Steve looked past the fangs to a deep, dark hole carved into the silicone and realized that this was really supposed to be something you put your dick in. He abruptly turned so red that it nearly hurt his cheeks.

“ _Bucky!_ ”

“Stop looking so offended, Stevie, you’ll sprain something,” he had stopped laughing and was catching his breath. “I went through your browser history and found your little research reddit and it turns out this guy is gonna be a much better fit for you than the fleshlight was.”

Steve was holding the thing a little away from himself, looking between it and Bucky.

“You want me to put my dick in a lizard,” Steve said, about two seconds away from hucking the sparkling silicone right at Bucky’s fool head.

“It’s a dragon,” Bucky said, earning a more murderous glare from Steve, “and I want you to put your dick in a cock sleeve that looks nothing like the ones they used on me.”

Oh.

“Oh. Jesus, Buck.”

Bucky stretched out one long leg and poked Steve’s thigh with a pointed toe.

“None of that. Don’t go getting maudlin on me. I’ve been jerking off so much I’m getting calluses thinking about you fucking that and I won’t have your serious sad eyes killing my fervor, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed a little.

“Your fervor, is that what we’re calling it now?” He raised an eyebrow and leered at Bucky’s lace-covered lap. 

“Fervor. Ardor. Lustig.”

“That last one means funny, not horny, hotshot.”

“Well maybe I think you fucking a dragon is kinda funny and kinda hot, how’s that?”

The stiffness and uncertainty had left Steve’s posture. He held up the strange toy and waggled it at Bucky.

“I think I can work with that.”

* * *

One of the great things about Steve was that if you gave him about two minutes to think about a new scheme he was almost always interested in giving it a go.

Sometimes that worked to Bucky’s benefit, case in point: Steve shirtless and sweating on the couch, slowly moving his joggers down off his hips and pouring lube into his palm at Bucky’s direction.

Sometimes it worked to Bucky’s benefit but he still wanted to kick Steve’s ass for his willingness to charge willy-nilly into unknown territory: case in point, letting the US government inject mystery meat into him. 

But at the moment things were working out nicely all around. Steve’s breathing was kicking up and his chest was turning that fascinating pink color that made Bucky want to taste it, his hands were full of silicone and lube and he wasn’t reaching for himself yet, Bucky was rock hard under the tantalizingly textured man-panties. Solid work all around for a Sunday morning.

“Wrap your hand around your cock. Squeeze hard around the shaft and stroke it slowly.”

Steve whined.

“Give it another,” Bucky said, and watched Steve’s hand move slowly over his cock again. It took no effort to get him hard and ready these days. He’d barely touched himself and it already looked like he was going to start leaking. Though maybe that was the specifically-designed-to-look-like-jizz lube. 

The future was an amazing place.

“Stop touching yourself. Pick up the lube again and get the toy wet.”

The pout he gave Bucky was cuter than it should have been. Steve picked up the glossy little bottle and squirted a healthy amount into the opening. He wrinkled his nose.

“This thing is so weird, Buck, it looks like it already blew me.”

“It should be so lucky,” Bucky replied archly. “Get up on your knees on the couch, honey. Spread your legs. I wanna see you trying hard to fuck that thing, not just letting your arms do all the work.”

Steve hissed in a breath.

“The mouth on you,” he said, kneeling on the cushions and spreading his thighs wide.

Bucky admired the jutting length of him and the heavy sway of his balls. 

“Get your toy ready, baby,” Bucky said. “Hold it in front of you with your left hand. Guide yourself into it with your right. Push in with your hips, don’t just pull it down onto you.”

Steve arranged himself as commanded and flicked one last blushing, incredulous look at Bucky as he saw the head of his prick resting on sculpted rubber dragon lips.

“Go on and push into it, honey,” Bucky said.

The embarrassed, nervous look on Steve’s face intensified for a moment as he figured out the mechanics of the motion Bucky had asked for. Then he started moving and all of the concern immediately evaporated off his face like rubbing alcohol on a hot barrel. 

“Oh,” he said in a soft little voice, blue eyes wide and pink mouth soft, “oh, Bucky, oh, wow -”

“That’s real pretty, sweetheart. Stop moving.”

There was a tiny, half-vocalized squeak but Steve did as he was told.

“Twist it with your wrist while you’re pushing into it then twist it the other way and pull back.”

Steve bit his lower lip and carefully followed the first part of those instructions. When he pulled his hips away and twisted the toy all semblance of control departed.

“Oh, oh Bucky, fuck oh my god, it sucks -”

Bucky laughed.

“Oh, you don’t like it, want to stop?”  
Steve’s eyes, which had started to close in pleasure, snapped open again.

“No! No, it’s - it doesn’t suck, it’s sucking - god, how does it feel like it’s sucking me off?”

Bucky smirked at him.

“It’s ribbed for your pleasure. Do what you were doing, now a little faster.”

Steve didn’t respond, just nodded and thrust back into the toy and pulled his hips back again, setting up a smooth, beautiful rhythm that let Bucky spend a pleasant couple of minutes watching the toy swallow up Steve’s long, thick cock against the scenic vista of his inhumanly perfect abdomen.

Steve tipped his head back and moaned, picking up the pace a little.

“Stop,” Bucky said, just to hear Steve whimper when he obeyed. 

“Turn around. Put the sleeve between the cushions on the back of the couch,” Steve was cursing under his breath as Bucky continued, “don’t put your dick back in it, put your hands on the back of the couch and bend forward.”

For a defiant little shit who never met a set of orders he didn’t want to toss into the wind Steve sure did take instructions well when he liked what he was hearing.

Bucky rose up and came to stand in front of him. 

“Think you can use your mouth while you hump into your little toy like a good boy, sweetheart?”

“Oh god,” Steve moaned. His hips jerked forward before he could get ahold of himself. “Yeah, yes. I can - please let me suck you.”

Bucky took a step forward and threaded his fingers into Steve’s thick hair.

“Go ahead and fuck your toy for a second first. Make sure you know where you’re supposed to be.”

Steve’s eyes were wide and glassy, his lips shiny and slick with how he kept licking them. He leaned forward, keeping his hands in place and wiggled his hips around until the head of his cock found the right place and right angle and the breath was pulled out of him as he moved into the toy.

“Perfect, honey. Now don’t think, don’t try to do anything, just keep your dick nice and wet in its little hole and let me ride your face.”

Steve didn’t even try to say anything, just stuck out his tongue and let his jaw go slack as he looked at Bucky with hearts in his eyes. 

When Bucky was sure that Steve wasn’t about to get knocked out of the sleeve by any slight movement he shoved down the waistband of the lace boxers and aimed his cock for the soft, tempting target of Steve’s throat.

Maybe it was the fact that his asthma had prevented him from deepthroating when he was younger, maybe it was the fact that the serum both dampened and enhanced sensations so pain wasn’t as painful and pleasure could be more pleasurable, but, whatever the reason, Steve loved having a cock in his mouth and he loved it best if it was rough and didn’t stay in his mouth but instead shoved itself halfway down his throat.

Bucky was happy to oblige. 

“Christ, Rogers, and you say it’s my mouth that’s trouble. I get inside you and I never wanna get out, wanna just stay here and feel you around me forever.”

The moan that curled out of Steve’s chest hummed its way around Bucky’s cock and made him tighten his metal fingers in Steve’s hair. That only made Steve moan harder and his mouth seemed to get softer, tighter, and wetter around Bucky.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this, sweetheart, should keep you on your knees forever. Feed you on your knees, wash you on your knees, put you to bed on your knees so I could roll over and fill you up if I woke up hard in the middle of the night.”

Bucky saw Steve’s hips jerk against the cushions, hot and wanting as Bucky thrust harder into his throat. Steve swallowed around him and Bucky grabbed hard onto the back of his head and held himself as deep inside of Steve’s mouth as he could go.

“You’d be an angel like that. No more suit, no more shield, no more saving the world, just a nice pillow to kneel on and hoping I remembered to feed you between uses.”

Steve whimpered around Bucky’s cock and fucked into the toy hard enough that the couch threatened to tip over.

“Put the sleeve in your hand and work yourself over with it. I want you to come while I tell you what a perfect little hole you’re gonna be for me. You wanna try new toys, wanna see what’s out there - I’ll get you a whole playroom, honey, but you’re it for me. You’re my toy.” The sleeve was a sparkling blur in Steve’s hand and spit was starting to leak down his chin to land on his chest. “All you’re here for is to look pretty and get fucked the way I want you to. You ain’t got a job, you ain’t got responsibilities anymore, all you gotta worry about is if I’m gonna want to see you swallow or see your pretty face get messy when I come all over it.”

Steve whined insistently and his breathing started to hitch in time with Bucky’s thrusts. His big blue eyes were wide and clear with want.

“You wanna be my toy, sweetheart? Wanna just be a pretty thing for me to use?” Bucky asked, and Steve groaned around the cock in his mouth while Bucky rode Steve’s sweet tongue and soft lips. “I’d be so good to you, make sure you were cleaned up right and put away in a nice, warm, soft box until I needed something dumb and cute to fuck.”

The image of it was what took Bucky over the edge - he could see Steve, sleepy and rosy and perfect, cuddled up in a cushioned case in a warm, sunny room; he’d be soft and loved and safe and totally trusting Bucky to take care of him, opening his mouth or spreading his legs whenever he was asked because he knew it wouldn’t hurt.

“Fuck, oh, fuck, Steve -” he gasped, and thrust deep one last time before his cock started to pulse, then pulled back so he could watch himself glaze Steve’s wondering face and wet, red mouth with shining lines of dripping come.

* * *

Steve didn’t know what exactly he was feeling, but he knew that it was good. 

The more things Bucky kept saying about using him, the harder he fucked into his mouth, the more Steve pictured himself as a pretty little doll for Bucky to play with, the closer he got to coming like a freight train and losing his goddamned mind. 

He wanted that and was surprised by how much he wanted it - he didn’t want to save the world; he wanted to be a convenient hole for Bucky to fuck, on his knees all night waiting in case he was needed.

The thought of it felt big and ripe inside of him, making his stomach drop like he was on a rollercoaster and his mouth water like he’d bit into a lemon. 

He let himself get lost inside of that feeling of falling and hunger and then Bucky was grinding into his mouth and pulling back to come on his face and Steve saw the joyful, greedy look in Bucky’s eyes as he marked up Steve’s face and that was it.

His hips rocked forward and his hand tightened around the sleeve swallowing his cock; the extra pressure pushed him into a fluttering, blooming want that rushed out from the center of him in a throbbing charge of pleasure.

He took a sobbing breath and thrust into the sleeve one last time, gripping it even harder, and ruined his own orgasm as his fingers tore through the silicone and it tightened crushingly around him before crumbling to pieces.

“Ah - fu- aaahhhhnooo,” he said as his dick jerked and the full, bright cascade of orgasm winked out into a bland, mechanical sensation of emptying. 

Steve was left panting with come dripping down his face, chunks of black-blue rubber littered around his knees, and a sticky hand that he glared at resentfully because, after all, it had ruined what was shaping up to be one of the better sexual experiences of his life.

“Fuck,” Steve moaned, and couldn’t even hang his head because Bucky was still holding him up by the hair. 

Bucky was looking at him the way he looked at the moon or a Barrett M82. 

“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he croaked, and then started laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Steve whined, “fuck, it felt so good and - god - I wanted to use it again. I wanted to feel what it was like to ride it slow,” he squirmed and Bucky let go of his hair. Steve immediately leaned forward and licked at a pearly drop of come still wetting the tip of Bucky’s cock.

“Jesus. You ready to go again already, Rogers?”

Steve hummed and sucked the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the slit to get more of the taste of him, and felt it twitch against him. He pulled back to speak.

“ ’M always ready to go for you, Buck.” The frustration of the orgasm-that-wasn’t faded away as he felt his cock starting to get heavy and thick with interest.

“Then it’s your lucky day, champ, because I bought two of those goddamned things.”

* * *

Steve’s face lit up like fireworks and Bucky laughed again. 

“Alright, c’mon sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up. I wanna try something.”

Steve bounced up and followed him like an excited puppy, clearly interested in seeing where Bucky’s plan led them.

First it led them to the shower, because Steve had bits of glittery plastic caught in his pubes and was still sweaty from his run. Bucky hosed himself off quickly but spent a long time carefully wiping Steve’s face and shampooing his hair and rubbing him down with a soft cloth while giving him little sucking kisses to his neck and his chest and his lips until Steve was making little squeaking whines every time Bucky’s mouth made contact with his skin. 

That’s when Bucky put the first step of his nascent plan in action. He ran the soapy cloth between Steve’s cheeks and bit down on the pale skin of his neck and waited until he was writhing before he spoke.

“Think I’m gonna need to fuck you pretty soon, doll. You want me to clean you out or you wanna do it yourself?”

Steve’s face turned maroon in about two heartbeats. It wasn’t something they’d ever done for each other. His cock twitched but he bit his lip and looked down. 

“I think,” he said, pressing against where Bucky’s hand was groping his ass, “I think me. I - yeah. Me. For now.”

Bucky sucked at the bite mark he’d left on Steve’s neck. 

“Okay, sweetheart. That’s perfect. Clean up then dry off and come to the bedroom. Leave your towel in here when you come out, I don’t want to see you with a stitch on.”

Steve’s blush had moved down his throat far enough that Bucky was pretty sure he could feel the heat of it on his tongue. Bucky bit down one more time then got out of the shower.

He wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he was doing but the vision of Steve, safe, open, and trusting Bucky not to hurt him, felt like a sigil stamped in his forehead. He stopped at the linen closet to grab their softest blanket, a rich, cool blue thing that would be beautiful against Steve’s pale skin. He turned down the bed and put the blanket over the comforter, making a deep, cushiony surface. Bucky frowned and then started opening the curtains as wide as far as they’d go - the glass was all mirrored anyway and he wanted the room flooded with light.

It didn’t feel right for him to be bare just yet so Bucky slipped on a comfortably worn pair of sweats before he went back to the kitchen to retrieve the lube and the second sleeve. While he was there the candle on the windowsill over the sink caught his eye. It had never been lit but it had a warm, buttery, amber scent that filled the room when the sun hit it. He grabbed that too. 

He heard the shower shut off and adjusted his timeline, setting the sleeve and the lube on a small towel at the foot of the bed while he got the candle lit and set on a nightstand.

By the time he heard Steve’s footsteps behind him he was pretty sure the room was as close as he could get it to the shape in his head without some help from Steve. 

Steve, who was blushing and looking down at his toes and smiling shyly at Bucky.

Which was, of course, ridiculous. They’d seen each other naked a million times. They’d been fucking for half their lives. But being told to get himself ready and come into the bedroom nude made Steve bashful. 

It was so cute it made Bucky want to punch something.

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky said, after he’d turned the joyful screaming in his head down to a dull murmur of delight. “You ready to try something kinda weird with me?”

“Sure Buck,” Steve said, stepping close enough to gently bump him with his shoulder. “I’ll try anything with you, pal. What have you got in mind?”

Bucky couldn’t help it. He kissed him. 

Steve smelled like water and tasted like home and Bucky could never, ever deserve it but he’d always be savagely, furiously happy that Steve was his.

“It’s weird.”

Steve snorted.

“If you haven’t noticed, Barnes, we’re pretty fuckin’ weird.”

Bucky chuckled and nodded.

“Okay. Okay, I want you to - I want to touch you. Take care of you. But I want you to - to be still. I need you to just lie on the bed and be still and do what I tell you.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Okay, Buck. I can do that.”

Bucky shook his head.

“You need to - you really need to be still. You can’t move, can’t touch yourself. Don’t touch me. If you can’t do that I need you to say. You gotta say.”

Steve frowned a little. “You wanna tie me up or something?”

Bucky shook his head harder.

“No. You need to be still because you’re being good. You’re staying where I put you and you’re being good. Can you do that?”

Steve kept his little frown on but nodded.

* * *

There was a weight and emphasis to Bucky’s words that got alarm bells to start ringing quietly in the back of Steve’s mind.

It felt like if he fucked this up it would be a lot more of an explosion than the last time Bucky had been triggered.

He considered stopping everything for a second. Putting on the brakes and calling Dr. Bernstein and talking through their plans, but the cautious, hopeful look of quiet joy he’d seen in Bucky’s eyes when he first came into the bedroom made his decision for him.

He’d do what Bucky needed him to even if it killed him. 

Which it wouldn’t. Bucky would take care of him. Wanted to take care of him, even. He’d said so. 

Besides that - he did want to be good for Bucky. He wasn’t sure what that meant, really, only that the thought of it made him feel like a church choir had started in his heart.

“Okay,” Steve said, a smile breaking on his face as he made up his mind. “What do you want me to do, sweetheart?”

Bucky beamed at him and Steve felt like he’d been dipped in a warm bath of taffy.

“Lay flat in the middle of the bed to start for me. On your back, legs together. Can you do that?”

It was truly weird how being asked to do little things he did every day made it feel like he was doing something notable or special. Five times out of seven Steve left his towel in the bathroom. He got into bed every night. But being told to do those things made it different. Weightier.

He arranged himself like Bucky had told him to, surprised to find the surface under him softer than it normally was. 

Bucky had layered up blankets and Steve felt like he was sinking into a cloud. It felt - weirdly intentional. Protective. Thoughtful. It made a little flutter run through Steve’s belly.

This is why he wanted to be good for Bucky. Bucky took care of him. Made things soft for him.

When Steve had settled in, Bucky crawled up to kneel next to his chest and ran the cool fingers of his metal hand over Steve’s chest. 

“You’re already gettin’ worked up, honey,” he purred as he tweaked a nipple, “you look so pretty when you turn pink for me.”

The praise made his face get hotter and Bucky’s touch seem heavier. The metal hand traced up to Steve’s shoulder and he turned his head to kiss it.

Faster than he could follow the hand was fisted in his hair and Bucky’s soft, wondering look was replaced with a hard, intent stare.

“Thought you were going to stay still for me, Rogers,” he growled, and what was really weird was how fast Steve’s dick got hard hearing that.

“Yes, I’m sorry, ’m sorry, I’ll be still I just wasn’t thinking.”

Bucky gave his hand a little shake and jerked Steve’s head to the side a bit. 

“You’re my pretty little toy, sweetheart, you shouldn’t be thinking. But you should be still.”

Steve’s mouth fell open, he could feel his pulse in his lips as he was suddenly straining with the effort not to move into the writhing that statement wanted to start in him.

He couldn’t hold back on the whine though.

Bucky grinned like a wolf.

“Oh no, you like it don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve panted, “Bucky - what the fuck - why is that so fucking - _fuck_ -”

Bucky leaned over Steve and kissed his forehead. 

“I got no idea, but I like it too. Keep being good for me, sugar, I’m gonna move you around a little. Stay where I put you.”

Steve hummed something he thought was affirmative and hoped the way his cock was rising up to rest against his belly didn’t count as moving.

Bucky lifted each of Steve’s wrists in turn and placed his hands palm-up and level with his shoulders. He smirked as he carefully cupped Steve’s balls and held them out of the way while he dragged his legs tighter together.

Once Bucky had Steve arranged the way he wanted him he tugged the towel on the corner of the bed closer. Steve tried to look without moving his head and got a quick swat on his thigh for his trouble.

“You’ll see it if I want you to see it. Just be a good boy for me and stay still.”

Steve didn’t fully understand what this was doing to him, he just knew that he was going to fucking die if it kept up. 

* * *

The joyful screaming in Bucky’s head was now a joyful chorus of joyful bagpipes punctuated with ecstatic tubas and delighted violins.

He and Steve had had good sex in their time together. They both had the kind of physicality that made sex fun and athletic, so it could be relaxing and a challenge at the same time. They’d had great sex. They’d had _years_ of great sex.

Which left Bucky wondering why he’d never bothered to tell Steve to stay still or be good for him because Steve apparently responded unspeakably well to that sort of thing.

Bucky literally couldn’t speak. He had to swallow first because his mouth was watering and he thought he might look like an idiot if he drooled all over his pretty fucktoy. 

Steve was flat on his back, cuddled up in blankets and lit to glowing by the midmorning sunshine. His eyes were wide and his mouth was softly open. He stared hard at the ceiling and looked absolutely nowhere else because he was a perfect asset and deserved to be rewarded for his good behavior. 

Bucky was maybe having three separate heart attacks about how fucked up and wonderful he felt. 

“It’s a shame you broke your sleeve, sweetheart. The one I got isn’t made quite the same,” Bucky said as he picked up the pastel, opalescent toy and squirted some lube in it. 

He drizzled some of the liquid on Steve’s cock then set the bottle on his stomach. 

The muscles under the bottle jumped slightly but Steve didn’t move.

Perfect boy. 

“You’re harder to shop for, honey. There’s not much that’s made to take that fuckin’ bat you’re swinging.”

Steve’s blush was telling but his cock was even worse, twitching while Bucky spoke and starting to slowly drip a clear pool onto Steve’s stomach. 

“If you can’t fit in this toy maybe we should just lock your dick up, huh? Too big to be of much use, might as well put it away.”

Steve’s cock twitched again and his fingers straightened out like he was trying hard not to make fists.

“Ah - Buck -” he panted, and all of Steve’s muscles got hard and tight as he had to work to hold himself still. Bucky mentally filed that reaction away for later. He hoped he’d get to it later. He hoped that they’d have years of discovery to explore this wonderful thing they’d stumbled into.

The toy Bucky had selected for himself looked like the asshole on some kind of alien orchid. It was pretty, and less distractingly realistic than the dragon’s muzzle he’d gotten for Steve. 

He wrapped his hand around Steve and stroked him twice, making sure that his cock was wet from base to tip, then lined it up with the little hole on the toy.

It looked ridiculous. Steve’s prick was thick enough that it was hard to get a hand around at the base and the toy’s opening looked like it would be a tight fit for a finger. Steve’s stomach muscles rippled as he sucked in a breath and held himself still, but he didn’t fuck up into Bucky’s hand or thrust against the toy. Just waited, following orders with no need for correction. 

Bucky started to apply downward pressure and for a second it seemed like nothing was going to happen - Bucky’s arm was an unstoppable force, Steve’s dick an immovable object, and they were at an impasse - but then the toy popped over the head of Steve’s cock and his whole body flinched while he made a noise like he’d caught a bowling ball with his abs.

And he _still_ didn’t move. Bucky thought his head might pop off like a balloon and float away with how proud and protective he was feeling. 

“You’re doing so good, baby boy, taking it so well,” Bucky’s hand moved the sleeve lower then reversed, sliding the toy over Steve achingly slowly so he could watch the way Steve’s eyes went soft and stupid when it wrapped around him. 

* * *

Bucky was trying to kill him, and, since Bucky was arguably the world’s greatest assassin, Steve was going to _die_.

The smaller sleeve was tight enough that it almost hurt every time Bucky moved it down over him, and it stung in a bright, twitchy uncomfortable way when Bucky held it just over the head and spun it around him. 

Steve wasn’t actually sure how he was managing to stay still because he felt like he was exploding from the inside out. The air seemed to sparkle, his heart was pounding, his dick felt like it could smash concrete and goddamnit, he was game to try.

Bucky had been working him over for ten slow, wonderful, terrible minutes when Steve suddenly felt melty and brilliant and realized he didn’t have to suffer like this. 

“Please,” he said, being very still and staying where he was put like a good toy. “Please, please, please,” he said, and in the corner of his eye he saw Bucky adjusting his sweats and heard him groan. 

Steve tried to take another breath and was distantly surprised to realize that it was hard, that his chest was shaking. That his face was wet and his throat was tight. 

“Please,” he said again, and hearing himself made him realize that he was crying. He was crying because of what Bucky was doing to him but he felt good and sparkly and he was staying where he’d been put so knowing that he was crying just made him feel warm and big and happy that he was doing what he’d been told. 

“Oh, oh sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what you’re doing, do you,” Bucky’s voice sounded funny too. Tight and strained.

“No,” Steve said, honestly, “I don’t know, I don’t know, but please, please -” and he just held himself back from bucking his hips or reaching out with his arms, his whole body going stiff to keep him good.

“I’m gonna put you on your stomach, honey,” said Bucky’s voice. It was full of smoke and honey and rocksalt.

“Okay,” Steve said, “please.” And he waited for Bucky to move him. 

* * *

Steve was a miracle. A lab explosion. A rainbow. His hair was soaked in sweat and he was red from his scalp to the tip of his prick and tears were running down his temples but he was so sweet and still and ready to comply that it made Bucky want to scream. 

He moved Steve onto his front and the way he needed to be handled, needed to have his head turned to the side so he could keep breathing because he wasn’t about to move it on his own, jarred something nasty and hungry and wanting inside of Bucky. 

He put Steve on his elbows and knees with his hands folded under his face, turning him so that his cheek rested on his crossed wrists. He didn’t shift his hips or try to touch himself, didn’t push back against Bucky for more than he was given. 

Nobody would hurt him, he was too good.

“Perfect,” Bucky said, and reached for the cock hanging heavy and full between his legs. Steve sighed and stayed where he’d been put and Bucky felt a deep throbbing start between his own legs.

He kneeled behind Steve and bent over him so that he could reach around and feed his dick back into the sleeve and slowly thrust it over him. Bucky flipped the lid on the bottle of lube with his free hand and squirted a healthy amount into the crack of Steve’s ass, dropping the bottle and moving his hand quickly to dam the dripping before it was wasted. He slicked two fingers in the shining fluid and started to rock Steve between his hands, pushing against his hole with one and letting that move him into the sleeve, pulling him back by the grip around the sleeve to press him against his fingers until the gentle pressure had opened him up and let Bucky slip inside. 

After a few minutes Steve was openly sobbing and whining out a “please” with every other breath but he wasn’t fucking into Bucky’s hands or arching his back to move the fingers, letting Bucky control everything he was doing and feeling. 

Suddenly it was too much. Bucky felt like he’d been staring through glass and had suddenly been able to reach out and touch. He wanted to be inside of Steve immediately. He pulled his fingers out and Steve tensed, locking himself in place because he wanted so badly to move, and _wailed_ at the loss. 

“Please, please Bucky, please - I need - need you, please -”

His voice was so sweet that Bucky gave in to his own wants and bit down savagely on Steve’s hip while he tried to get his own pants down one-handed. Steve’s cock twitched so hard that Bucky could feel it through the toy.

“Please what, baby? What do you want, doll?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” he whimpered, pathetic and adorable. “I need to come, please, _please_ Buck -”

“What if I said you’re only allowed to come on my cock?”

Steve’s did that _I’m-turning-into-a-rock-so-I-don’t-fuck-my-way-through-the-floor_ thing again and Bucky wanted to swallow him whole, hide him away inside and keep him safe forever. 

“Then fuck me, _please_ ,” Steve whined.

Bucky growled and bit him again. 

“And what if I said that coming is for people, not dolls?”

Steve stopped breathing. When Bucky looked at his face to check on him his eyes were squinted shut so hard it was wrinkling his forehead and he was biting his lip so hard that it looked like it might split as he tried desperately not to come.

Bucky was going to murder anyone who ever looked at him again, he was so in love.

Steve started breathing again and opened his eyes blearily, pouting with his swollen, bitten lip.

“Then fuck me _anyway_ , _please_ ,” he moaned, and that was all Bucky could take before he was lining up and fucking in to the furnace-hot tightness of Steve’s pristine ass.

* * *

Steve’s brain melted. That was okay. Bucky would help him clean it up later. 

All he had to worry about was staying still and being good and Bucky kept telling him how good he was.

It was all he’d ever wanted and he didn’t know why he’d never realized it. 

The harder Bucky fucked him and the faster he stroked the sleeve over him the harder it got for Steve to hold back his orgasm.

But he could.

He would.

He was good.

He could do it.

* * *

Steve did everything right. 

He stayed still for his handler, didn’t hide his pretty noises, didn’t come without permission.

He was perfect and beautiful and sharp and obedient - everything that a weapon should be.

Bucky pulled out of him and gently kissed his spine between his shoulder blades. He picked up the towel on the bed and wiped the mess from between his legs before turning him on his back.

He moved like a dream, never taking initiative beyond his orders, never overstepping or becoming a threat to his handlers.

His face was hot and red and wet and Bucky wiped that too.

He eased the toy off of Steve and saw that he was sticky and wet but still rock hard and hadn’t come.

Bucky wanted to cry.

He was so good. No one would ever have to hurt him.

“Steve, honey,” he said softly, and the big blue eyes flicked down to meet his. “Honey, can I put my mouth on you? Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

Steve blinked slowly.

“You can move now, sweetheart. You were perfect.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah sweetheart. You were so good for me. Can I give you a treat for being good?”

Steve nodded, some of the red fading from his face while the focus came back into his eyes.

“Oh-okay,” he looked a little lost but seemed to find himself a bit more when Bucky wrapped his lips around Steve’s cock and started bobbing his head.

“Oh fuck, oh, honey, Buck,” he moaned, and Bucky hummed contentedly.

It didn’t take long - not after getting fucked into that sleeve for half an hour - before Steve was holding onto Bucky’s hair with gentle fists and curling his big thighs up around his head.

He shook and shuddered and was lovely and soft through the whole thing, right up until Bucky let the soft cock slip out of his mouth and gave it a tiny kiss on his way to sit up.

He halfway tackled Steve onto the bed and kissed him hard, then waited while Steve’s brain came back online. 

He cleaned up a little while he waited for Steve to come back to himself, tossing the used toy in the bathroom sink for later cleaning and throwing the soiled towel in the hamper. As soon as the Asset’s sweat had dried he could be prepped for cryo so they didn’t have much -

Assessment.

Assessment.

Aw, fuck.

* * *

Bucky scampered off while Steve’s brain was still remembering how to string sentences together so he took a few minutes to catch his breath then found a comfortable pair of running shorts. 

He folded up the extra blanket on the bed and blew out a candle burning on the nightstand.

He blushed a bit as he did so. That was an unusually romantic touch to follow up fucking a fake dragon’s mouth.

He wandered into the kitchen looking for Bucky and a snack because he figured that doing extremely confusing and pleasant sex stuff had probably burned a couple thousand calories that he needed to replenish while he talked to Bucky about what just happened.

Food promptly got sidelined when he found Bucky picking crumbs of silicone out of the couch and crying. 

“Oh, no, honey,” Steve approached him slowly, making sure his footsteps were audible and his voice was calm, “Buck, c’mon, let’s go sit in the kitchen and talk.”

Bucky let himself get herded out of the living room and onto a stool at the breakfast bar. Steve tried to take his hand but he flinched away so Steve got him a bottle of water instead.

“You wanna give me a list of colors you see, bud?”

Bucky looked up at him with enormous eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and cringed in on himself. 

Steve leaned against the counter, keeping his posture open and relaxed. Unthreatening. Calm.

“I’m not sure why, sweetheart. I just had a really great morning with a really great guy.”

Bucky’s shoulders shook with a sob but he didn’t let out any noises. It was one of the creepier things he did when he was upset.

“I treated you like me.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. 

“Care to explain that, Buck?”

His chest and shoulders kept shaking but he nodded frantically.

“Treated you like an asset. Put you where you belonged. Didn’t let you move. Wanted to put you away right, get you ready for storage.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve felt like he’d walked into a pole; surprised, upset, sore, and stupid. He should have seen this coming.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky whined, and cringed further into himself. 

Steve didn’t try to touch him, just started pulling things out of cabinets. 

“You got nothing to be sorry for, Buck. I had a good time. A really good time. And I liked how you treated me.”

There was chocolate cereal on the top shelf and almond milk in a shelf-stable box next to it. Steve got out two salad mixing bowls and poured half a box of cereal in each.

“But I treated you like me. Treated you like they treated me.”

Steve dug two serving spoons out of the silverware drawer.

“You’re going to have to pardon me for disagreeing, sweetheart, but from what you’ve told me none of your handlers made you come so hard you cried after putting you in a soft bed and making sure you were warm and comfortable.”

Bucky uncurled a little.

“And you’re going to have to pardon me for disagreeing further, but I think I’d remember it if you had mentioned that getting called a pretty doll to fuck made you get so hard that you lost the cognitive ability to form complete sentences.”

Bucky uncurled a little more.

“You like that?”

Steve poured almond milk over the cereal and handed Bucky one bowl before settling himself against the counter again with the other.

“I liked it when you did it. I don’t know if I would if it was anybody else. But all I could think about was how safe you could keep me and how much I wanted to be good for you. It felt amazing.”

Bucky tentatively picked up the spoon and tapped it on the outside of his bowl.

“I wanted to make you a case. A soft, warm box where you could get locked away between missions and it wouldn’t hurt.”

Okay. The general _implications_ of that hurt Steve a little, deep in his chest where he would tell David about it and cry in the shower. 

“Well then, it doesn’t sound like you treated me like they treated you. It kinda sounds like you treated me how you wish they’d treated you.”

Bucky frowned and shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

“You’ve got the sophisticated mind and palate of a seven-year-old,” he grumbled, “what do you know?”

Steve smiled around his own mouthful of cereal. He knew they’d be okay, at least. He knew that for sure.

* * *

Dr. Bernstein was unsurprised by the outcome of Bucky’s adventurous episode.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, and she snorted.

“If you apologize to me one more time I’m going to up the price from a nickel to a quarter and I’m going to die a rich woman.”

Bucky laughed, then groaned, then dug out a dollar to drop into the ‘sorry’ jar he secretly kept in his desk.

“You made a mistake but I don’t think it was a bad one. And, in fact, it is perhaps the most normal mistake you’ve ever discussed with me. The problem isn’t that you treated Steve like an object, the problem is that you didn’t talk to him about doing so.”

Bucky frowned at his computer and hoped the webcam reproduced it at the proper intensity. 

“I’ll be giving you some references for homework. Books and websites that might help you to avoid being upset like this in the future.”

“What do you mean, in the future?” he said. “We’re not doing it again, obviously.”

“Whyever not?” Dr. Bernstein said with an airy wave. “You enjoyed it, Steve enjoyed it, you were briefly upset but then moved on. Much like your issue with the toy in the first place, this is something that you can work past. If you enjoyed it and it helped you to feel in control then it’s worthwhile to work for.”

Bucky frowned harder at the screen. 

The future was incredible.

* * *

“See something you like, sweetheart?” Bucky whispered in his ear and Steve must have jumped a foot. For someone with forty pounds of metal welded to his shoulder Bucky was maddeningly quiet.

He leaned over Steve with his quiet metal arm and his quiet little smile to pick up the book he’d startled out of Steve’s hands. _The New Bottoming Book_ , which Steve had unearthed from a little stack of interesting reading material he’d found on the coffee table.

“What bookstores have you been sneaking off to without me, Barnes?” he huffed, trying and valiantly failing to fight off a blush.

“Aww, sweetheart, don’t get jealous. It’s homework.”

Steve thought if his face got any redder it might actually melt.

“ _This_ is your homework from Dr. Bernstein?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, and bent over him to give him a big, happy kiss on the mouth. “Wanna help me study?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, you have all cursed me with just an INCREDIBLE amount of horrible porn and shocked softboy breathing sextoy Steve now lives permanently in my head waiting to get pulled out of his warm, comfy case and put to use.
> 
> Which is to say: comment on what you want to see next - I'm thinking watersports, chastity, or sounding.


End file.
